


The Quiet Places

by J_Peachy



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Fluffy, Introspection, M/M, somebody please take my computer away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 17:09:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5256665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Peachy/pseuds/J_Peachy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Thursday afternoons were Akihito’s haven."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Quiet Places

**Author's Note:**

> So this started as one story and ended as another. It also ended a lot more vaguer than I intended but I hope it worked out. I've been in the mood for some slow, indulgent pieces so I might turn this into a series. :D

Thursday afternoons were Akihito’s haven. Nothing much seemed to happen in terms of news and it was just that time of day (and week) that Asami seemed to be at his busiest. So Akihito could relax, go to his favorite cafe or ice cream parlor and just…sit around. Sometimes it felt nice not to be racing around the city, chasing a news story. 

Sometimes it was nice to just chill. 

Of course he never failed to notice that a few minutes after he had settled down with a cup of coffee (or a sundae) a man with dark glasses would inevitably slink into the room and order something which he would then take an inordinate amount of time to finish. 

Akihito found that he didn’t really mind. Well, he did but less than he used to. The men following him around (creepily, he may add) were some sort of token of Asami’s affection for him (though really, they needed to talk about this. When they actually y’know, talked instead of…well, whatever they did.) He got used to waiting for them to show up, (the number increased depending on how many dangerous incidents he had been in recently. He usually averaged three a week. Nice to keep security on its toes.) and even gave them affectionate names. There was ‘Might Have Murdered Somebody’ along with his brother ‘Definitely Murdered Somebody’ and the aptly named ‘Does He Know What’s On His Chin?’ There was even the very mysterious ‘Lady’ who was a very unassuming looking woman who had appeared in all three of the cafes Akihito entered, on the same day. It was when he got up and went towards the fourth that she gave him a very sly wink and Akihito ended up buying her a coffee. 

They were mostly nice. Stoic, but nice. Lady was probably his favorite but he waited for the days Scarface showed up, mostly because he wanted to know how a man could get such an awesome scar. Like seriously, it stretched all the way across his face, split his lip and disappeared into his neck. To add to this, he never so much as looked at Akihito (while the rest tended to glance at him once or twice at least) and always ordered very black coffee. Always. Curiously, he never seemed to appear on Akihito’s ice cream parlour days.   
(Asami seemed to be as tight lipped about him as he was about any of Akihito’s ‘bodyguards’ but there appeared to be a hint of a smile whenever Akihito mentioned the ice cream bit. Maybe it was an in joke. Maybe they were family. They both hated ice cream, after all. Hey, it could happen.) 

On the surmise that Scarface might be Asami’s brother or father, Akihito was always careful to wave at him politely whenever he appeared even though the man never so much as looked at him. 

(Asami found this hilarious by the way, in a way that only Asami could find things hilarious)

So it was a bit surprising for Akihito when instead of one the regular guys that Thursday afternoon, it was Asami who entered the shop. 

Akihito paused, spoonful of delicious chocolate sundae halfway to his mouth. The waiter gave Asami a bewildered look and Akihito couldn’t blame him. With his dark suits, careful elegance and air of dark menace, Asami seemed incredibly out of place in the bright cheery ice cream parlor. 

“Um.” Akihito said as Asami settled himself in front of him, “Are you lost?”

Asami raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘you’re cute when you ask asinine questions’ and instead said, “So this is where you spend your quality time?”

“Yes.” Akihito said. “As you very well know since you have me followed all the time.” He glowered as Asami smirked and ate the ice cream still melting on his spoon. 

Three spoonfuls later, when Asami still hadn’t said anything, Akihito said, “Any reason you’re here?”

“Any reason I can’t be?”

“You hate sweet things.” Akihito pointed out.

“What fine observation.”

“Ugh.” Akihito groaned. “You’re doing the thing again. Stop it.”

“’The thing?’” Once again there was a hint of the smile playing around Asami’s mouth. It was a hint towards the infinitely rarer smile that Akihito had seen only once or twice. 

“You know, where you decide to be all aloof and sarky like you’re sharing a joke with yourself.” Akihito scowled. “I’m sure it’s hilarious to laugh at me but you’re ruining my ice cream mood so go away.”

“You mistake me. I wasn’t teasing you at all.” Oh, a definite smile now. Akihito’s heart skipped a beat but he forced himself to continue glaring. Give the bastard an inch and he would take a mile. 

“Who said anything about teasing me?”

The smile disappeared into Asami’s full blown smirk. Akihito sighed. 

“Fine, be like that. At least let me finish this in peace.”

And wonder of wonders, Asami actually did. And then dropped him off to his studio. With no sex (OK, maybe some heavy petting) in between either.

Akihito might have passed it off as a freak incident except next week it happened again. And the week after that. And again. At cafes, at parks, even at a fast food restaurant that Akihito was reasonably sure Asami had never set foot in before. 

 

Asami was….strange with affection. It wasn’t all sex and energetic bed tackling. Sometimes, when least expected, he would find a warm hand ruffling his hair and look around to find that familiar smirk with something decidedly unfamiliar playing around its edges. 

Quiet. That was the word. Asami’s affection was quiet and sneaked around corners, touching him when least expected. Akihito had taken to tugging absent mindedly at his hair, wondering exactly what Asami liked so much about it. 

On his bad days (and he had as many as the next person, he just chose not to dwell on it), Akihito could admit that the question took on a broader perspective: what Asami saw in him? The whole issue with Sudoh and everything had thrown a curveball at him. Asami didn’t need his help. He was a part of Asami’s world, but not that world. 

On his bad days, what Akihito really wanted to do was talk to Asami. About anything. It was such a bizarre thing, when he thought about it (and terrifying, when he really thought about it) that sometimes all he wanted from Asami was the comfort of a quiet evening with a movie and Asami’s smile slowly crinkling at the corners of the face along with his fond, indulgent look-

Anyway. Those were his bad days. 

On his good days, he waited at ice cream parlors and non descript coffee shops, with something like hope.


End file.
